Path of a Dragonborn
by MightyMerlin
Summary: A story arc taking place 40 years after the defeat of Alduin. The Dragonborn's disappearance prompts a scholar to trace her last steps...and discovers more than he bargained for. FemaleDragonborn /Serana Rated 'M'
1. Chapter 1: Hadvar

**AN: Okay, so I decide to make a miniseries that may answer a few questions I received about my Dragonborn story arcs...mostly questions about the gap between the Miraak story arc and the fic I have planned for hundreds of years afterwards (see my profile if you aren't sure what I am babbling about :P)**

 **It's also because it's a fun thing to do while writing and planning for future chapters. obviously, there will be some spoilers so you have been warned ;D**

* * *

 _One year._

 _For one year, no one has seen or heard a whisper from the Dragonborn. For one year, the bandits have gotten braver, the necromancers exit their caves in search of fresh victims and the foul creatures that roam Skyrim gain ground on our doorsteps._

 _One may assume that I place all these faults at the hand of the missing Dragonborn. In truth, I was sent to this cold and harsh land to find answers, and in the process, perhaps find a kernel of truth in a burlap sack of guesses and contradictions._

 _I only pray that the truth is not as terrible as the people claim it is._

 _Malyn Dravis' Journal, 4E247, Riverwood._

* * *

"A scholar, huh? Fine. Take a seat, and for the love of Talos, don't put your fingers or toes in the water. Blasted Slaughterfish are spawning this time of year."

Malyn Dravis nodded and did as instructed, taking a seat besides the old man. It had taken him months to get from Cyrodiil to Skyrim, thanks to the bandit strongholds that had sprung up along the border. He held his amusement at the irony.

 _A series of fortifications that held the finest of the Aldmeri Dominions armies at bay, now serves as an almost impregnable fortress for thieves, vagabonds and the general scum of the lower classes._

In fact, it was only due to the assistance of a strange Dunmer who had led him through a few secret passages through the Pale Pass that he had managed to enter Skyrim at all. The moment they were safely past the border, she had vanished the second he passed the three rubies into her palms.

 _Thieves. Always a problem._

Still, he had made it. The Synod had chosen him for the investigation that had them all scrambling for answers. And hopefully, this elderly man would provide the answers they sought.

"Sir, I have a few questions, if I may…"

"Huh. Figures. Go on, I am getting older just waiting for you."

Malyn blinked and ignored the rude response, taking out his notebook and bracing himself.

"My thanks. As I mentioned, I am from the Synod, an organisation based from Cyrodiil. We have cause for concern that the disappearance of the famed 'Dragonborn' is responsible for the increased bandit numbers across Skyrim and Cyrodiil, as well as numerous civil wars springing up across Tamriel."

The old man snorted, pulling back on his fishing rod, his muscled arms straining against whatever he had caught beneath the stunning water that ran through Riverwood. Malyn allowed an eyebrow to raise higher. This man was surely in his seventies but he was still in excellent shape.

"Figures," he muttered the second time, glancing at the young man sitting beside him. "Here to bitch and complain about her even after everything she did for us?"

"I am here to set the facts straight, nothing more," Malyn replied calmly. "While Morgan Aurelius did much for every mortal in Tamriel, there is also evidence that she is also responsible for the many sufferings of others."

The old man shook his head.

"All it took was forty or so years before people wanted blood from her. She never asked for her gifts, she never asked to be the saviour of every man, woman and child. Alduin. Harkon. The _fucking Thalmor_. And the second she decides to leave society, you people get your daggers out and aim for her back!"

Malyn said nothing for a moment, wondering why the old man was so angry. It was the truth after all. She had done more for the common good than most. But she did need to take responsibility for her actions, just like anyone else.

"So you knew her."

A sigh. The man let go of his rod, which flew into the water along with whatever had been on the other end. He stared at his gnarled hands before glaring at the nonplussed scholar.

"Aye. And proudly."

Malyn nodded for him to continue.

"Met her in Helgen."

The man smiled in memory.

"Proper little spitfire. Took down sixteen Stormcloaks in the caverns. Watched her as she became the warrior of legend. How she recovered after her defeat of the World-Eater and sought a quieter life. Her awakening of a powerful and ancient vampire who turned her and yet even that never sapped her humanity..."

He sighed again, heavier than before.

"But when she returned from Solstheim...she had changed. It was subtle at first. She still laughed, still flirted and made everyone else get jealous as a result. But her eyes...Even an idiot could see that the poor girl had gone through something even worse than what a god could throw at her..."

Malyn coughed for him to continue, wondering if choosing this relic of a man was a good idea after all.

"She became angrier, more volatile. Serana had shared my concern but also explained that only she could move past this anger. She _is_ part dragon after all."

Malyn frowned now. Dragons were a menace even after all these years. And every single message and plea for assistance for the Dragonborn's help was always met with silence. He did not doubt that it was because of the dragons overwhelming attacks on the Summerset Isles that the Second Great War was as decisive as it had been decades ago. But they answered to no-one and always refused a summons from even the most powerful mage or Elder Council member.

"I always wonder if she could forgive these people who besmirch her name. Perhaps she may do so, given the chance. I don't blame her for leaving like she did though. In fact, I..."

"You saw her? Recently?"

"Stop interrupting me, cub," the old man chuckled. "She would hate you just for the way you talk to others. And no, it's been two years since I saw her last. Right there in fact."

Malyn turned his gaze over to where the finger was pointing, and shuddered slightly at the ruins that could be seen high in the mountains.

"Bleak Falls Barrow, where it all began. Where the little dragon grew up," he said proudly, a small tear dripping from his one remaining eye.

Malyn flinched. The light from the sun and water had hidden the cloudy orb from view. It had also hidden the scar tissue that surrounded it, as well as the tell tale sign of an enchanted arrow wound just below the eye socket.

"Old war wound," he chuckled harshly. "Fucking archer with one of their fancy arrows got me in the face while I was defending Whiterun. It was Morgan who dragged my fat arse away from the carnage, put out the fire on my face and helped me survive the days that followed."

Malyn heard the unspoken words that signalled the interview was over, and he stood up, brushing off his robes before glaring at the old man dressed in tattered Legion armour, his one eye twinkling in amusement.

"You have no idea where she went? None at all?"

"No. The girl deserves her peace seeing she has led a lifetime of stopping wars rather than starting them."

"It was because of her that the Dominion attacked Skyrim with more than sixty percent of their forces," Malyn pointed out.

"Aye. And it was because of her that the elves screamed for mercy when the dragons swooped down on them, with her at the lead. Magic and that blade of hers, carving through ranks of mere mortals...a grand moment in my life, one I shall rejoice in when Sovngarde calls for me."

Malyn scoffed.

"That's not what our best selling book describes. Here, perhaps you may gain some enlightenment from this," he replied, digging into his backpack and throwing a thick book at the old man, who caught it easily and chuckled at him.

"Oh yes, I remember this book. _The Dragonborn's Falsehood._ I recall using the pages after a particularly bad attempt at eating wolf stew. Bloody hunters leaving the meat out in the sun too long."

Malyn snarled in distaste.

"Yup, made a right mess of my breeches that did, but that book saved my life!"

The scholar made to turn and walk away before the old man called his name.

"Hey, Dravis!"

"Yes?"

"You never asked for my name. That's what you do, isn't it? Ask for peoples 'accounts' and then 'credit' them afterwards?"

He ignored the wheezy chuckle from the old man before conceding his point.

"Fine. I shall record your name in the books in recognition for your _services._ "

The old man stood up and it was then that Malyn realised that this old man was a figure that many war veterans talked about, even after all this time. The body build was not as frail as most would be at that age. The armour, while tattered, had the sigil of a dragon emblazoned on the front.

A _white_ dragon.

A member of the Dragonguard. The elite soldiers that had served Skyrim with distinction during the first Thalmor invasion attempt, and the soldiers who had only take orders from two people. One was the Dragonborn of course, the other was High Queen Elisif the Fair, who still remained Queen to this day.

So this man, this old man from Riverwood...

"Hadvar..." Malyn muttered.

Hadvar smiled before shuffling away, his laughter increasing with every step. Malyn stood there for a few seconds before smiling himself. Hadvar hadn't been the most cooperative person but he had given him a fresh lead for his investigation.

Turning smartly on his heel, he made for the stables, where his white horse was patiently waiting for him, an attendant straining to keep the spirited beast at ease. Taking the reins and hoisting himself onto the saddle, he took off northwest, ignoring the stable boys squawk of disapproval.

 _Next stop, Solitude...and perhaps ask why Hadvar and the Dragonborn met just before she vanished._

* * *

 **So, that's the first chapter done, feel free to leave a comment or use the private message is you have any questions...and to those who are expecting the next chapter of Ashen Souls, I am working on that as well ;)**


	2. Chapter 2: Elisif

**AN: Thanks for the feedback, reviews and faves, it means alot :)  
** **WARNING! LOTS of evil stuff and SPOILERS in this chapter for any future chapters for Ashen Souls and beyond!  
** **Just wanted to put that out there :D**

* * *

Malyn Dravis climbed down from his mount and smiled at the sight. Handing over the reins to the stablemaster, he walked up the pathway that led him to the capital city of Skyrim, Solitude. Pulling his hood down, he allowed a rare moment of bliss to course through him as the sun burned his skin. Having travelled from Riverwood, he had passed through a seemingly unending rain storm, and had been forced to stop at numerous caves along the way.

Thankfully, he hadn't come across any bandits, although he had seen signs of their presence, especially around what used to be Morthal. He had heard the tales and had read the reports, but he hadn't been prepared for the devastation that Morthal represented.

The town was nothing more than an overgrown husk. Every building had collapsed, the rotting walls entangled in thick vines. Frostbite spider corpses had littered the ground, and more than once he had heard the skittering of their limbs as he passed through the abandoned town. But he had been unhindered and had been able to pass through unscathed.

The two days travel had allowed him time to reflect on what Hadvar had said, and he was becoming more curious about his tale. Had the Dragonborn truly been as selfless as he made her out to be? While many of the reports of Morgan Aurelius had been from non war veterans, he had to admit that the previous book written about her was a little biased against her.

But the public were entitled to the truth in his mind. And while she had been an icon for many, there was no doubt that she had been the cause of much strife and suffering as well. The deaths of at least two Jarls had her involvement in some way after all. Not to mention the horror stories that had come from Maven Black Briar's demise.

He passed through the main gates and continued through the streets, shaking his hea dozen children tore past him, some yelling words he had no idea translated as.

 _What kind of word is 'FUUUS'?_

He stopped for a moment as he came across the most recent addition to Solitude's already impressive building collection, The Dragonborn Gallery. For forty or so years, it was still in impressive shape, the tall walls untouched by age or vegetation growth. And the centerpiece of the structure, a massive dragon skull looming over the entrance, was still as magnificent as he recalled seeing it over thirty years ago.

It was a fake, of course. The Dragonborn had insisted after seeing it that no real bones of _her kin_ should ever be used in a public display. He shook his head again. The poor woman had become more draconic over the years, and her insistence of the bones indicated just how out of touch she had become.

Giving one last look at the Gallery, he moved on to the Blue Palace. And stopped when he saw a statue that had been erected in the main courtyard, a statue that had only recently been placed if the streaks of mortar on the cobblestone was anything to go by.

Morgan Aurelius standing in an attacking stance that scholars had identified as Akaviri in nature, one hand alight with magical fire, the other hand holding that wicked blade that had been given many names over the decades. Cleaver. Bone Slicer. Blood Drinker. The names went on. No-one knew how she had crafted the blade herself, although there had been mutterings of a Daedric Prince being involved.

Then there was the armour. It looked flimsy. Very reminiscent of leather in a way. Many people believed that she had taken the robes of the College of Winterhold and had changed them with blood magic, but none in the Magical studies of the Synod had figured it out.

Malyn stood there for a few moments, eyes fixed on the fangs that jutted out of her mouth in an animalistic snarl, before shaking his head once again. He had dawdled enough. It was time to meet the High Queen of Skyrim. Clutching his notebook tightly, he strode towards the main doors, eager to hear the Queens opinion of the elusive Dragonborn.

* * *

"Welcome to Solitude. In the name of the Nine Divines, I bid you welcome."

Malyn stood up from his kneeling position and kept his head at a respectable level as he faced the High Queen. Age had been kind to Elisif the Fair in his view. She was nearing her sixtieth year and yet she only had a few wrinkles on her face, her soft blue eyes containing a steel that he found a little unnerving. The robed woman standing beside stood away from the two of them, although he knew that she was ready to intervene should it be required.

"You have my sincere thanks, Your Majesty. It is an honour to be here once more."

"You have been here before? Oh yes, I recall your visit to the Gallery years ago. As I recall, you were screaming about a blue ghost stalking you in the Dark Brotherhood Gallery," Elisif said with an amused smile.

Malyn hid his shock at how sharp her memory was. But he managed a smile in return and explained why he had come so far. He noted that the Queen had an excellent 'false face' but she could not hide the soft expression that appeared on her face when the Dragonborns name was dropped.

"Morgan. My dearest friend. Yes, I dare say I knew he better than most," Elisif said as she adjusted her skirts and fixing him with a glare. "I do hope you are not planning to slander her name like that last book. That caused more than a few riots."

"I merely told the viewpoint for the benefit of the masses," Malyn lied smoothly.

"Morgan would like to say 'dragonshit' to that claim," Elisif replied with a grin. "So, what would you like to know?"

 _Straight to the point. I can see why she has become such a strong ruler._

"The Dragonborn has not been since in over a year, Your Majesty. Many are wondering if she has finally fallen in battle, or has abandoned the citizens that she claimed to protect?"

He wasn't ready for the unladylike snort that came from the Queen.

"Abandoned? For what she did for the 'people', I would have declared her birth date a day of festivities where all food, drink and other entertainment was free for the 'people'," Elisif said after a few seconds of chuckling. She then stood up and directed him to follow.

He did as asked and fell into step beside her, noting that she was shorter than he. He also noticed that the robed woman was walking right behind him. A perfect position for dealing with him were he an assassin.

"The Gallery was erected in her name. The orphanage was a home that I offered her for services to the Crown. She stayed there for a time but then sold the estate and insisted it become an orphanage for the children left homeless during the Civil War," Elisif explained as they walked through the Palace, nodding to the dozens of guards and staff that were in attendance.

"She defeated the World Eater when she had no clue as to her 'destiny' Morgan was never interested in power, gold or fame. Less than a year later, she battled with an ancient vampire that had plans for a permanent nightfall where the vampires would rule over the mortal realm. She stopped that because it was needed. She fell in love with the same vampire that accidentally turned her."

They stopped when they came to the exit.

"And then she travelled to Solstheim and tore half the island to the ground while fighting one of her own kind. A Dragonborn," she explained when she saw his baffled expression.

"But... she was the last?!"

"Yes. But Miraak was the _first_. The First Dragonborn versus the Last Dragonborn. Once again, the whims of the gods had placed Morgan on a path that she had no interest in. She only travelled to Solstheim when her daughters were placed in danger. It was personal."

Elisif smiled darkly.

"One thing I can tell you is that making an enemy of Morgan on a personal level is a very bad idea. But in her quest for vengeance, the island of Solstheim became an island of fear. The people of Raven Rock fled the settlement shortly before her final battle with Miraak. That battle levelled _mountains._ "

Malyn knew his mouth had dropped, but the Queen kept going.

"Your scholars thought it had been a natural disaster. Another explosion from Red Mountain perhaps. Or even a fun joke at the expense of Sheogorath from what I have read. But no. It was Morgan and Serana AND Miraak Shouting the island into the sea."

Elisif smiled wider.

 _Were they fangs? No, trick of the light._

"Believe me, my dear. Morgan was the ultimate warrior. A master of the thu'um. Styles of magical use and blade skills lost to time meant even Miraak could not withstand her. The Thalmor couldn't either. They found that out when she came back, angrier than she had been before she left. Then there was the fallout afterwards."

Elisif nodded to the guards, who opened the doors.

"Many sought compensation from her for the damage done by her thu'um during the invasion. And you know what she did? She gave them every last Septim she had. Every jewel, every exotic weapon she had collected over the years, many of them now residing in the Gallery, which is a definition of irony Morgan would find amusing. Even the Dragon Priest masks."

Malyn found he couldn't speak. No-one had mentioned this in any of the records!

"Is it any wonder why she left the public eye? The poor girl lost everything save her own home in the Pale... then she lost entrance to most of the Holds, save a few. The people of Solitude have always looked at Morgan as one of our own. Perhaps it is time that others do the same, now that she is not around to deal with the bandits any longer?"

Malyn recognized that the interview (if it could be called such a thing), was at an end. He dipped his head in acknowledgement and made to leave when a surprisingly strong hand gripped his forearm.

"I only tell you this because you are not the first to search for Morgan. Just stop. Walk away. I am not sure why you are looking for her, but no-one has returned from their searches for her. The previous man was named Julius Marvius. A pleasant man but young and naïve. He disappeared months ago and we haven't heard from him since"

"You know something." Malyn said bluntly, his patience at an end. He hid his knowledge of that name however. Julius was a good boy, but very foolish to have come here alone. Only twenty years old as well.

If Elisif was unimpressed at his attitude, she hid it well. She shook her head.

"If you truly are set on your destructive course, then I can only offer you a name."

"Who?"

Elisif sighed as she let go of his arm.

"Aela. Safe travels, Malyn Dravis of the College of Whispers, also known as the Synod."

 _How did she know?!_

He made to walk after the Queen, but the doors slammed shut before he could get there, a smirking smile from the robed woman the last thing he noted before the Queen vanished from view. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a little weak all of a sudden.

 _Elisif having fangs? No, she was aged, no possible way she is a vampire. Too much travelling on the road, not enough rest and water._

He would rest in the tavern before making his way back towards Whiterun. He knew the name 'Aela'. Anyone who knew anything about the Companions should know that name. If anyone knew of the Dragonborn's whereabouts, it would be the esteemed leader of the Companions. Malyn smiled, the warning of the Queen becoming nothing but background noise in his mind.

The trail was getting warmer, he just needed to stay on course.

* * *

"Well done, Your Majesty. Such an insufferable man," Sybille Stentor praised with a smile. "He didn't notice that you had taken his mind so easily."

Elisif the Fair smiled as sat up from her seated position, licking fresh blood from her lips before replying.

"Just another Gift that Morgan taught me. I got what I needed. The Synod won't be a threat for very long. Such a strange place to study magic, when all they do is try to ban it. No moving, boy," she added, pushing the man beneath her back down and smiling down at him for a moment. "You recall what I said about moving, yes?"

The man strapped to the table whimpered and nodded as Elisif lay down on top of him once more, her fangs already extending for another taste.

"A second scholar from the College of Whispers at my door. You people are persistent. And stupid. Still, Perhaps Mayln will have better luck?..."

Elisif grinned and covered his mouth with her hand and sank her fangs into his neck once more, holding his body with her thighs as he squirmed and attempted to scream.

Julius Marvius cried as the Queen vampire fed. He cried for his life. For the lives of the Synod and for the lives of the people. And then he cried with happiness as his Mistress kissed his throat before mounting him on his waist, her bloody lips set in a grin as her face became smooth, her skin becoming unblemished and youthful. Why had he been so worried? His Mistress took care of him. She always did.

* * *

Sybille Stentor smiled from the corner. The Queen had become much more confident since that fateful night, when the Dragonborn had paid a social call only three years after the defeat of the Thalmor.

Elisif had been reporting sickness for months, and a rare poison from the Summerset Isles had been the culprit. The would be assassin had been found and executed of course, but it was far too late for a cure to be found. On her deathbed, Elisif had called in the one favor that she had asked of Morgan. She hadn't been ready to die, and Skyrim had struggled to rebuild since she had vanished from the public eye.

Sybille smiled at the memory of the Queen emerging from her room with a bright smile and a face smeared with blood, her orange eyes ablaze with new life. The smirking Dragonborn had placed a tender kiss on Elisif's face before vanishing into smoke, leaving the two vampires to begin again.

Solitude would remain standing for centuries because of a Queen and a Dragonborn refusing to allow ethics to stop the growth of a nation. Sybille glanced up as she watched Elisif ride the helpless male beneath her.

 _A true Queen for Skyrim. All hail the Queen._

* * *

 **AN: I did warn you *evil grin* I spent a while thinking of this chapter, and hopefully its good enough for all my awesome readers :D**


	3. Chapter 3: Aela

**Great to hear so many views about Elisif :D I wasn't certain how everyone would take to Morgan's change in character, but she has been through so much... and she is not the only one either... ;D**

* * *

Malyn Dravis walked through the main gate leading into Whiterun, pulling his hood a little further over his head while grimacing as the rain battered his body. The entire trip back to Solitude had been nothing but heavy rain and thunderstorms. As he walked through the busy streets, he had to admit that despite the weather, the locals treated it as a minor nuisance at best.

The stores were open and trades went on all around him. He rose an eyebrow as he passed a horde of children and adults, all of them clustered around an unassuming building located just past the most famous blacksmith in Skyrim, Warmaidens. The blacksmith owned by Adrienne was the only store where people could learn the trade free of charge.

He passed by Adrienne, who was leaning against the post whilst instructing her two sons as they worked on the forge, smoke billowing from the structure and spilling out into the rainy sky. The woman was in her seventies, and the loss of her husband during the Thalmor invasion had seemingly had no effect on the sternness that she possessed.

But it was the other building that held his interest. For this old, dilapidated building, was none other than Breezehome. The Dragonborn's first home in Skyrim. He stood with the group, eager to hear a little more about the building.

"Are there any questions before we continue?" He heard the man standing at the doorstep ask, his friendly gaze roaming over the assembled crowd.

A little boy raised his hand.

"Does she still live here?"

Malyn smirked as the crowd chuckled at the question. The guide smiled at the young boy and shook his head.

"No, my dear boy. The last resident was none other than Lydia. Also known as Lydia Storm-Sword, a title she received after the Thalmor attack on Whiterun. It has remained here in this state since the invasion," he said as he stood up, now addressing the crowd.

"The current Jarl of Whiterun, Jarl Dagny the Wise, decreed this building as a piece of Skyrim's history and was not to be touched until it falls apart."

The crowd murmured and Malyn rolled his eyes before moving on through the city, stopping once more when he came across a statue erected in the central courtyard, placed just in front of his destination.

Jorrvaskr loomed above the steps as it always had, and he smiled a little at the wooden patchwork that had been added to the ancient structure.

 _At least they fixed up the damage here, perhaps not all Nords are mindless brutes._

But the statue at the foot of the steps was something not related to the Companions in any way.

The Dragonborn again. This time, she was standing in an almost seductive pose, one hand on her hip, the other was resting on the head of a massive wolf, which was sitting on its haunches by her feet. The long dress what she wore fell all the way to the ground, accentuating her curves. There was no weapons present, just the two figures.

He stood there for a moment, looking at the calm expression on the vampires face, the way she wore a small smirk, as though she were amused at what she saw. He admitted that she looked almost human in this state, but after a moment of reflection, he smiled. The Dragonborn hadn't been human in a long time.

He walked past the statue without a backwards glance and walked through the front door. It was time to meet with the Harbinger of the Companions.

* * *

"So, you're the scholar that's been asking questions."

Malyn sat down on the offered seat and met the gaze of the Huntress. Or tried to.

Aela the Huntress was still beautiful, the long red hair spilling over her shoulders and covering an ample bosom. The green warpaint streaked across her face altering her beauty in the least. He did note a few strands of that hair were going a little brown, but for a woman getting close to sixty years old, she still looked like she may pass for thirty.

She smirked at his staring and bit into a red apple. Slowly.

He gulped and gathered his thoughts, not seeing her grin widen when she swallowed.

"Yes, Harbinger, I... "

"Aela. The formality isnt needed here. You are a guest."

He nodded.

"Aela. I have questions about the Dragonborn, if I may."

Aela grinned at him.

"She liked to be on top, feisty minx she was."

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks and ignored the cheers of the Companions that had overheard the conversation. He was surprised at how anyone could hear _anything_ over the chaos that was going on around him. He and Aela were sitting opposite each other on a vast table, which was groaning under the weight of an assortment of food and drink.

There were dozens of Companions in attendance, and from what he could hear, a few were engaged in fighting. He adjusted his robes before meeting the amused Huntress' gaze.

"Go on, ask your questions," Aela prompted him after taking another colossal bite from the apple.

"I simply wanted your input on her life, the things she did," he replied calmly.

Aela laughed loudly and took one last bite of the apple before throwing it to the far end of the room, where it slammed into a straw bin. She smiled at the fact her accuracy was still immaculate despite the years and grinned wolfishly at Malyn.

"Where to start with Morgan? Unstoppable with a blade, magical abilities far beyond what the Thalmor mages could only dream about and a woman that deserves more respect in this age."

She shook her head.

"It didn't take long for people to turn their backs on her. Yes, she destroyed so many buildings when she returned from Solstheim. But the _thousands_ that she carved into pieces should have made up for that. She saved us all. Again."

He made to reply but her sharp glare cut him off.

"Skyrim and her _people_ bled _her_ dry, an irony she would find funny I might add. Yet she simply went out and got more treasure to keep her and her family well fed for the rest of their lives. And only recently, she decided 'fuck this', and vanished. Can't say I blame her."

"So you have no idea where she has gone? None at all?"

Aela released a bark-like laugh and grinned at him.

"You really don't understand, do you? If Morgan wanted to talk to you, you don't find her."

She chuckled.

" _She finds you._ "

He simply waited for Aela to explain and she sighed.

"Three years ago, a group of vampire hunters from Cyrodiil came to Skyrim. You may have heard of them. The Order of the Virtuous Blood?"

"Of course. A group of hunters formed a group not unlike the group formed during the Oblivion Crisis. The irony of course being that it was Morgan's ancestor who helped found the Order back then. Lucinda Aurelius."

Aela nodded.

"Well, a group of twenty seemed to think that Morgan was a menace and needed to be put to the sword. They found their way to Morgan's home in the Pale, and... well it didn't go so well for them."

He hadn't heard about this tale, and he leaned forwards, eager to hear the rest.

"Only one of them came back, muttering about a blue ghost and orange eyes. The fact that he was naked and was as stiff as a plank of wood was just an added insult on Morgan's behalf."

"She killed the rest? _All of them?!_ "

Aela chuckled again.

"They went to her home, a home that she had built herself, only to be invaded by a group of bigots who forgot just who and what they were fucking with. Of course, the order didn't like that and they planned for a retaliatory strike."

"But...the Order has gone. Has been for... wait, did she attack them? That's... that's _MURDER_!"

Aela tilted her head at his outburst and smiled.

"They shouldn't have poked the dragon. If you were a decent scholar, you would know that one of Morgan's requests was that she, and her family, were to be left alone. She in turn would leave the precious _milk drinker people_ alone to squabble and fight amongst themselves without dragging her into it. The Order were the ones who broke that truce. Morgan was simply protecting her family."

Malyn stood up and walked away without another word, the roar of laughter from the Harbinger tearing into his ears. The second he was gone, Aela turned to the figure that had been standing in the shadows just behind her.

"Can you believe that prick?"

A beautiful Dunmer woman stepped into the light, her orange eyes blazing with amusement. Her red and black armour a stark contrast from that of the assortment that the Companions wore. She smirked at Aela."

"Good thing he didn't know that most of you fleabags aren't exactly _normal_. I mean, no-one has breasts like yours at that age."

Aela grinned at her.

"Yes, you would know all about those," she winked. "Any idea what to do about this guy? He's travelling all over Skyrim and he seems to be getting closer to his quarry."

Brelyna Maryon grinned at Aela, her fangs peeking out of her mouth.

"Leave him to me. I can be very persuasive."

"No kidding. Took me three seconds before wanting to bed you after you saved my life. Thank the Listener again when you get the chance would you? This arrangement has been a boon for all of us thus far."

Brelyna smiled.

"Always a pleasure, Aela. I shall let the Listener know of your praise, I expect she will reply in due time."

Aela blinked and the assassin had vanished. She smiled at how prosperous the Companions had become over the years. Farkas and Vilkas had been Harbinger for only ten years between them before the responsibility had passed on to her. Skjor had been killed during the Thalmor invasion, but he had cut down the four assassins that had attempted to take Balgruuf's life before succumbing to his wounds.

She still recalled how Morgan had appeared out of thin air the night Aela had become the Harbinger before explaining everything. Aela hadn't been that surprised that Morgan had become an assassin. Her fighting style... well one of them at least, was well suited for that line of work. But she seemed so much more at ease when she told Aela the truth about her.

 _"I am not a giver of life, Aela. I am a TAKER of them."_

That sentence still made Aela go weak at the knees.

Serana's 'little dragon' had grown up after her voyage to Solstheim. Serana never explained just why Morgan had changed, although Aela knew that having been partially responsible to levelling half an island must have been a factor. The two vampires had come to the realization that family and friends came first. Everything else was secondary. It was something that Aela had agreed with wholeheartedly.

Morgan had given her an offer. The Companions had been under attack from a branch of the Vigilants of Stendarr as well as another radical group known as the Silver Hand. Farkas had almost been killed in a brutal attack. The two recruits that he had been with at the time had been slaughtered where they stood. Just seeing how Lydia had waited at his bedside for nearly three weeks was a sight that chilled Aela's blood to freezing.

They couldn't handle either organization, and it was only a matter of time before Jorrvaskr would have been attacked directly.

Morgan had come to their aid. She offered to kill the leaders and any important personnel, and in return, the Companions would inform the Dark Brotherhood of any threats to either organization or to that of the High Queen herself. Aela had taken a month of thought before agreeing to the terms. Six months later, the Vigilants had left Skyrim entirely, the Silver Hand wiped out by Morgan. Personally.

Brelyna was the Dark Brotherhood's informant, who went under the name of Brenya whilst she was with the Companions. Ria was the Companions informant, and had been welcomed into the Brotherhood formally after a nobleman tried to force himself on her after she had completed her Trials to become a member of the Circle.

While Aela had been reluctant at first, the fact that the Companions were safe was a testament to the Dragonborn's will. No contracts would be performed on any of their members, the Night Mother had said as such during a vivid dream she had had more than once. Morgan had found it amusing that Aela had asked so many questions about the Unholy Matron, but had explained that she could not answer.

Only she and Ria knew of the arrangement. Not even Farkas and Vilkas knew.

Aela picked up another apple and frowned.

She wondered just how much longer the alliance could last...

* * *

 **AN: Oooooooooh, the lengths that Morgan goes to :D Leave a comment if you like, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter :D**


	4. Chapter 4: Brelyna

**AN: having great fun writing this storyline, thanks for anyone who reads this :D  
**

* * *

Malyn stretched and grunted when an audible popping sound issued from at least two parts of his spine. Grunting with pleasure, he made to sit up and plan his next move. And then was when he realised something was wrong.

He wasn't in the Bannered Mare any longer. He had paid fifteen gold coins for a room, and had promptly fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow, his tired mind having finally admitted defeat after attempting to digest the words of the Harbinger, Aela the Huntress.

There was no music in this new place. In fact, he could hear dripping water and... yes, they were the scuttling noises that only small rodents could make.

"About time you woke up, I have been here waiting for you for around six hours."

Malyn managed to move his head to one side and blinked at the stunning Dunmer female who was sitting on a chair beside him, her long black dress swirling down to the ground, a hint of bare thigh showing. He couldn't see her face, however. He grunted and tried to move again, snarling when he spotted the triple knots that his limbs were bound in, three thick ropes encircling his legs, chest and arms.

"Comfy? I always was good with knots."

"I demand that you release me this instant!" He yelled as loud as he could.

There was a moment of silence before she started chuckling and reaching for a goblet that was sitting on the table beside her.

"Take a look around, Malyn. There isn't a soul within a mile of you. And yes, I know who you are."

Malyn averted his eyes from his kidnapper and looked around, looking for any escape avenues that he could find.

It seemed to be a tower of some kind, but it had clearly seen better days, judging by the amount of rubble that was formed around the edges of the tower. The moss covered stone hid any windows or openings, and the only route he could see was a spiral staircase leading downwards.

It was also very cold. Bitterly so.

As if sensing his discomfort, the Dunmer blasted a fire spell onto a fire pit close to the bed he was lying on, and large flames erupted from the sticks and hay, sending prickly heat to wash over his chilled body. Turning his head to the woman once more, he put as much venom into his voice as he could.

"If you don't free me within..."

"You won't _do anything_ ," she cut him off with a chortle. "You don't know where you are, you don't know who I am, and you don't have a clue as to why you are here."

"So why not show your face and tell me what you _think_ I need to know?"

She chuckled again, this time in a manner that had his body erupt in goosebumps.

"Fine."

He stared as the hood was removed, and long black hair spilled downwards over a stunningly beautiful set of shoulders. And then he looked at her face. And the twin orange eyes that burned into his very soul.

"Is that better? Not that I minded you looking at my body of course, but this makes it feel more... _personal._ So, Malyn. Why do you think I brought you here, to be tied up and at my mercy?"

He didn't like how this vampire was eyeing him, like a piece of meat to be devoured. He attempted to move once more and gave up after three seconds of no progress, the smirking vampire infuriating him even further.

"Just like all you filthy vampires, you wish to feed off of me, is that it?"

The vampire snorted with amusement and drained the goblet before throwing it against the wall, small red globules of a viscous liquid dripping from the impact point. It was blood, he realized, as the vampire stood up and walked over to seat herself beside him, a slender finger trailing along his neck.

"One bite here and I could drain you within two minutes. A cut with even a blunt dagger, and you would bleed out in four. Lucky for you, I have already had my fill. Now, Malyn, are you going to listen to what I have to say, or am I going to need to use more _persuasive_ methods?"

From what little literature the Synod had about vampires from Skyrim, he had read reports of people doing the bidding of their vampire 'masters' without hesitation or regret. Just from glancing at those burning irises, he knew he was dealing with a Volkihar, the most powerful breed of the vermin within Skyrim.

"Fine. And then you will release me?"

The vampire smirked as he fingers caressed his cheek briefly.

"You aren't any fun. But yes, you will be free to go when I am done. Are you ready to listen?"

He managed to nod, and the vampire's smile suddenly vanished, the cold look of a killer appearing within half a second. He fingers had ceased their mockery of friendliness, and were now pressing on the spot where his heart was, the heavy beating of his organ loud in his ears.

" _Back off._ "

He blinked and saw that her expression hadn't changed.

"You heard me, _mortal_. This is not a request, it's an order from the one you are searching for."

"The Dragonborn! Where is she?!"

Her nails had grown larger and had torn through his cotton shirt and were now digging into his skin. He winced as she glared at him.

"Morgan wished for me to tell you to _fuck off_. She knows all about your travelling, your questions and biased opinions of her. She isn't interested in having her name dragged through the muck again. Oh, yes, she knows all about you, Malyn."

He was grateful when her nails... or _talons_ retracted, and soft golden light spilled from the palm of her cold, dead hand, the small incisions that her claws had created vanishing from view.

"She understands that the mortals want their explanations, they want her motives and thoughts. And Morgan doesn't owe them, or you, _anything._ "

She had leaned down, her face inches from his, her black hair surrounding his face like a curtain so all he could see was her perfect grey skin, the golden eyes and the razor sharp fangs within her mouth.

"She gave up everything for the parasites. She gave her life, her wealth and her well-being, and even that wasn't enough. So I tell you this because while there is nothing I could do to change your stubborn mind, perhaps it may get you to think a little more."

He blinked, paralyzed with fear as she came closer, her lips brushing his.

"The last person who pissed Morgan off was a boy whose grandfather had been in the Stormcloak army during the battle of Windhelm. You know of this battle, yes?"

He gulped as he felt her hand press on his beating heart.

"This fool decided to challenge Morgan to a single duel, hand to hand combat only, with no magic or weapons. What _idiot_ challenges a vampire to that kind of fight? Anyway, the fight lasted around the time it takes to say your first name, and when Morgan offered to pull him to his feet, he drew a dagger from his boot and tried to stab her with it. You know what became of him?"

He shook his head slightly as she chuckled darkly.

"Look to your right when I move."

He did as she asked, and when she had moved entirely, he could feel his bladder tighten at the sight before him.

A young Nordic man was pinned to the wall by his wrists and ankles, small but sturdy chains wrapped around his joints, small spikes jutting out of a few links within the chain itself. He could see the reasoning behind this, it was to ensure the prisoner knew that to struggle against the bonds would cause massive bleeding.

He looked at the young Nord again and stared as he could see his chest rise and fall slowly, as though each effort would be his last.

The vampire had stood up and had walked over to the other captive, her hand running along the muscled torso, where small scratches could be seen. She smiled at Malyn before she wrapped her arms and legs around the prisoner before grinning wickedly at him.

"Cease your hunt for Morgan, otherwise...," she trailed off.

She lunged forwards and buried her fangs into the man's throat, her legs tightening around the man and the cracking of bones adding to the howl of the cold wind and the crackling of the now-dying fire.

He closed his eyes, the sucking sounds getting weaker and weaker.

Then he felt a weight settle on his waist, a cold sensation coursing through his body as a pair of cold hands rested on his shoulders. He didn't want to see, but a small, nagging voice in his mind told him it would be safe to look, he wouldn't be harmed in any way.

He opened his eyes and there was nothing to be seen, the ropes that had been holding him down were in a pile on his chest. He staggered to his feet and winced at the bare wall where the Nord had been, a few streaks of dried blood the only signs that someone had been there. Malyn looked around and spotted his rucksack and travelling gear in a neat pile on the small table.

Along with a note.

Ensuring the rucksack was secure and no items had been removed, his gear ready for travel, he opened the note, a strong fragrance of nightshade filling his nostrils as he began to read the contents within.

 _Malyn._

 _While I can understand the need to find answers, to find the answers to questions to fill hidden gaps of knowledge, the way you have been stalking me shows that you aren't interested in your own life._

 _My good friend Brelyna asked me more than once to end your life on my behalf, and for a moment, I almost agreed. It was rather amusing to see you quiver in excitement when she straddled you and told you it would alright._

 _But your death would mean nothing to me, and much more to your colleagues in the Synod. Yes, I know all about you now and my patience is wearing thin. The High Queen warned you, and now Brelyna did as well._

 _Now it is my turn._

 _Leave me be and nothing else shall happen, I give you my word as *unintelligible writing* Forgive me, I sometimes write in dovahzul. That word means 'ruler' or as the dov refer to me as, 'Thuri'. You may leave Skyrim unharmed and you shall never see me again... if you saw me at all that is._

 _You felt my presence though. That cold breeze shortly after you awoke? I was there, ten feet away in the shadows. You looked right at me and never saw how the shadow was thicker._

 _Yet if you persist in your 'stalking', I cannot protect you from those who protect me, Brelyna included. I may be able to command dragons to my will and in extreme cases, rip their souls out with a sentence, but mortals and friends are among those I cannot control._

 _Feel free to keep the parchment, it would be worth a lot of coin to the right buyer. On the other hand, who would want a letter written in blood?_

 _Regards,_

 _Morgan Aurelius, The Last Dragonborn, Thuri of the dov and the slayer of the Thalmor_

Malyn snorted as he placed the note into his rucksack and made his way down the spiral staircase, throwing the door open at the bottom and wincing at the snow that battered his face the second the wooden barrier was moved.

He glanced at the massive castle that loomed out from the snowy swirls, and he grinned.

It took more than a few scares from a slutty vampire to make him change his mind. Malyn strode towards the castle, his next destination on the search for the elusive Dragonborn.

Castle Volkihar.


	5. Chapter 5 : Valerica

**AN: So sorry for the wait, went on holiday for a long break :) Hope this chapter was worth the wait, and thanks to those who always comment for sticking around :)**

* * *

"You were foolish to have come here. What did you hope to accomplish, _mortal?_ "

Malyn Dravis managed to look upwards despite the cold hands that were pressing on his shoulders and glared at the creature sitting on the throne before him. She had been beautiful once, he mused. Before the curse took her body and soul, converting her into the nightmarish creature she had become.

Valerica Volkihar was sitting comfortably on her throne, her long red and black dress pooling at her ankles, her legs crossed beneath the smooth silk as she smirked at the Imperial male kneeling before her.

"What fool marches into the front door of a known vampire clan's residence without at least a compliment of the Dawnguard? " She said after sipping from a goblet. "And if the Dawnguard did send you, why did they refuse to tell me beforehand?"

"Answer her Lady's question."

Malyn grunted as the female vampire standing behind him pressed downwards, her hands bending his shoulderblades slightly. He glared at the smirking vampire before him.

"I came to ask her Lady for answers."

Valerica tilted her head and nodded, the vampire lessening her pressure. Malyn had a moment of relief before the vampire behind him knelt down and wrapped her arms around his neck in a choke hold, yet allowing him to breathe.

"Lily will break your neck if you speak ill of me, human. So be careful what you say next," Valerica warned.

Malyn swore he wouldn't break into a sweat and calmed his heart rate, Valerica smiling when she heard his efforts bear fruit.

"Lady Valerica. I came here as a humble human to ask for possible answers to the many questions that we mortals always have."

Valerica chuckled.

"Much better. Please be seated."

Malyn was thrown into a chair and winced as Lily sat on his lap, an ebony dagger held at his chest. He noted that the blonde Nord vampire was grinning at him and he ignored her as best he could, focusing on the patriarch of the Volkihar clan.

"Ask your questions."

He squirmed as the vampire on his lap tapped the dagger on his neck.

"Did you know the Dragonborn, My Lady?" He asked.

Valerica snorted.

" _Of course I did_ ," she hissed. She glared at the twenty or so vampires in attendance and nodded once.

Ten seconds later, there was only himself, Valerica and the blond vampire in the main hall.

"Morgan was a very strange being. One moment she would be silly and naïve. The next, she could tear out someone's throat and smile as they choked in their own blood. It took me many years to figure out just what made her who she was."

Malyn hid his excitement. He was finally going to get some new details! It had been a bold and risky move to march through the main door of Castle Volkihar and ask for an audience with the leader, but it seemed it was all going to pay off.

"What did you learn, My Lady?"

Valerica smiled.

"All these years and not one scholar like yourself could join the dots? How unfortunate it is that the teachings of the mortal realm has dropped so low. Morgan was a _Dragonborn_. Or _Dovahkiin_ in her true tongue. Two souls, one body...," she trailed off with another smirk, standing up and walking over to her 'captive audience'.

"It was a slow turn at first, but as the years passed on, Morgan started to display more draconic responses to emotions rather than that of a human. She was much quicker to anger, especially over any threat to her family, verbal and physical. Her thu'um grew exponentially more powerful, even the first Words of Power of Unrelenting Force was strong enough to throw an orc fifty feet backwards in times of great stress."

He had to wonder how that had been proven, but Valerica continued, her words boring into his brain.

"All three Words of that Shout was able to turn a mammoth inside out at a range of fifteen feet. And that thu'um was just one of what she knew. And Serana seemed to have been able to absorb some of those abilities for herself. Ask yourself as to how that happened."

Malyn was uncomfortably aware that the vampire sitting on him was staring at him silently, that dagger still pressing gently on his chest.

"A form of magic?"

Valerica nodded.

"Of a fashion. You see, when my daughter accidentally turned the Dragonborn into one of our own, Morgan managed to pass on a portion of her knowledge through her blood. But that would have normally been a brief transfer of information. Blood magic can be a tricky business. But Morgan and Serana managed to form a bond of blood. A partial merging of their souls."

Valerica shook her head.

"Serana knew the risks but her emotions got the better of her. It took a few years before she started to display similar responses that Morgan would have. With her ability to tap into the knowledge of the dragons thanks to ingesting the blood of the Dragonborn, Serana became part-Dragonborn herself. She couldn't learn Words of Power as quickly as Morgan was able to, but what would normally take a mortal twenty years to learn a single Word through meditation..."

He flinched as the twin burning orange eyes latched onto his.

"Serana could take as little as a year. Forty years have passed since they met. Enough time for her to have learned many of the full Shouts."

"Is that why Solstheim is nearly seventy percent underwater? The Dragonborn, your daughter and Miraak all using the same Shout at once?" He asked incredulously, leaning forwards and nearly impaling himself on the dagger. He grunted as the vampire pushed him backwards into the chair before straddling him, her black tattered dress smothering his legs as she ensured he wouldn't move again.

Valerica fixed him with the largest glare yet.

"You know of Miraak? How? There was nothing published and the survivors of Raven Rock fled the island just before the island sank."

"High Queen Elisif mentioned him," Malyn said quietly.

Valerica stared at him for another moment before sighing.

"So you know that he was Dragonborn also? And that his mask and robes are on display in the Musuem on Solitude?"

He hadn't seen anything of the kind, he was certain of it. His bewilderment must have been noticed, as Valerica smirked.

"It was only put on display this week. The curator did mention it to Elisif as well. I wonder why Morgan left it so late as to donate the items recently..."

He moved forwards again, only to be slammed backwards as the vampire pushed him back.

"Are you that eager to impale yourself? Silly boy," Lily crooned as she whispered in his ear. "Do that again and I will not move the dagger."

Valerica grinned.

"You won't find her. Morgan has become extremely proficient in the arts of disguise and stealth over the years. A far cry from the brash and loud woman she once was."

"You knew her well enough to know she abandoned those she once swore to protect?" Malyn replied, fed up with the threatening vampire clan. "You knew her enough to know that she was a blight on the land and beyond, not to mention the one responsible for the destruction of dozens of buildings and possibly the deaths of several Jarls?"

"May I kill him now, My Lady? His incessant whining grates on my ears," Lily said as she grinned hungrily at him.

"No, Lily. He doesn't deserve the pleasure you would give him before his death. I do have an alternative however."

Lily beamed at him before standing up, sheathing her dagger and kneeling in front of the Volkihar patriarch.

"The Book that Morgan gave you? The one that she wrote just for you?"

"Fetch it quickly my dear," Valerica smiled at her.

A blink of an eye, and she was gone, leaving only himself and the ancient vampire, who seated herself on his lap just as the other had done and rested her arms on his shoulders.

"As for you. This may hurt a little..."

He had little time to prepare as she lunged forwards, burying her fangs into his neck, her arms wrapping around him in an unescapable embrace. He tried to shove her off him, but it was as though she were a statue. He felt his hands being pressed into hers as she continued to feed. And just as his eyesight began to turn grey, she released him, wiping a smear of blood from her lips as she smiled at him.

"Your blood will tell me everything I need to know. And when you awake, you will be banished from this castle, your memories of this meeting forgotten, as well as that of the previous day."

 _No! The thoughts of Brelyna or whatever she was called. The note that the Dragonborn had written..._

"Morgan is still a novice at how to deal with a consistent pest. It years past, she would have just cleaved them in half. But fear not, Malyn, I have all the information I need," Valerica smiled as she tapped her finger on the side of her head.

He managed to stand upright for a spilt second, only for Valerica to push him to the ground and press her foot on his chest, pinning him down. He feebly grasped her ankle, her foot increasing the pressure, making it hard for him to breathe.

His vision began to swim as Lily came into view, passing Valerica a small red book before kneeling on his chest and pinning his arms down behind his head. He felt a smaller set of fangs pierce his neck once more as strange words began to emanate from Valerica. The last thing he heard before everything went dark was Lily giggling and Valerica muttering a single sentence.

" _Perhaps that will rid Morgan of her pest problem. Leave him Lily, he is halfway through the portal already... silly human..."_

* * *

He opened his eyes and winced at the harsh sunlight that burned his skin. He coughed harshly before rolling over onto his hands and knees, breathing heavily in the cold air. It was ten minutes before he felt strong enough to stand upright, and he ended up leaning against a tree for support as he tried to figure out where he was and what had happened.

Odd. He didn't recall anything since meeting the Harbinger of the Companions. Had he gotten into a fight? The bloodstains on the collar of his shirt seemed to indicate a neck injury, yet there was no marks or cuts of any kind, his skin untouched.

He rummaged through the tattered backpack that he always carried with him and swore when he couldn't find his journal. He yelled in frustration when a localized search yielded nothing... and that was when he spotted the city close by.

 _Skyrim doesn't have any city such as this. Windhelm comes close, but there is a large river running beside it. This city has high walls but..._

He jogged forwards as a familiar object came into view, a large group of scholars and researchers all examining an object that had been the focus of the Synod in recent years. The Thalmor had been unsuccessful in the destruction of the object in question and had been abandoned shortly after the fall of their armies within Cyrodiil.

 _The siege engine. Bruma._

He was in Bruma, Cyrodiil. A far distance from Whiterun. _How had he gotten here?_

 _"_ Malyn. Is that you?"

He managed a shaky smile as his longtime colleague walked up to him, a worried expression on her face.

"Celia. How..."

"I could ask the same thing... is that _blood?_ "

He was no longer to say anything else as he was rushed into one of the massive tents nearby and a full battery of tests followed. He barely noticed the flurry of activity around him as his eyes had briefly locked onto the long-deactivated siege engine. It was only a moment, but had the front of the machine glowed slightly?

He felt a calm spell wash over him and he embraced the darkness once more, a small giggle echoing in his mind before sleep took him...

* * *

 **AN: Hehehehe you didn't think Malyn would get all his answers right now, when there are around 7 or 8 chapters left to go? :P Fear not, he will get answers and will also meet someone very close to Morgan's past in the next chapter...a few of you may know who, but hopefully the rest won't have that long to wait :)  
Thanks for reading :)**


	6. Chapter 6 : Selene

**AN: So sorry for the delay, no excuses for my laziness! Hope to crank out some more writing soon without rushing anything...a fine balance :P Anyway, hope you enjoy :D**

* * *

"Once again, I must give my thanks for your hospitality, My Lady."

Countess Selene smiled as she appraised the scholar before her. She knew who he was of course, she had read that book more than once over the last few winters and his closing comment at the end of that book still made her think about her past even to this day.

 _The Dragon arose and now no-one can stop it._

She often wondered how Malyn Dravis gained all the information he had gotten in order to write that book. Some of the questions he had asked as a preamble in his book had hit far too close to home for her liking. Like how she and Morgan used to steal sweetrolls from the Royal kitchen and hand them out to the homeless children throughout Bruma.

To her knowledge, only she and Morgan knew about that, although she suspected her mother had known about it and hadn't done anything about it.

"You are of course, welcome here," she replied smoothly as she sipped at the potion in her goblet before making a grimace.

 _I wonder how much longer I have left. This disease should have killed me by now yet the alchemists say that whatever lies within this 'White Phial' is keeping me alive and stopping the disease from spreading. In fact, I have never been as healthy in years._

"I must ask if I may...is that truly the Phial?" Dravis asked, peering at the container with curious eyes.

She smirked.

"It is...well, as far as we can determine at any rate. Morgan claimed it was so."

There it was. The scowl that more and more people were giving anytime her longtime friends name was mentioned.

She couldn't recall when that name started to cause such discomfort within the populace. Perhaps it had been her actions after the Thalmor had failed the invasion of Skyrim, when Morgan had given up all her amassed wealth and shun the society that had bled her dry. She didn't blame her for that, she had said as such when her small army had attacked the elves from behind and Morgan had been there to greet her when the fight was done.

 _"You took your time, get your legs trapped in your skirt again?"_

Selene chuckled. That was the Morgan she adored. The friend she had gained, lost and then gained once again.

"No doubt you wish to know where she is," Selene said after a few more seconds of comfortable silence.

She noted how the scholar sat upright, his eyes now fixed on hers as though he could see into her mind. When she was younger, she may have been intimidated by that stare, but she was older now, close to the end of her life. Besides, if you could talk to Morgan without flinching, you were braver than most in her view.

"If it isn't too much trouble, My Lady."

She smiled again. She knew how this would end already, but she would give him the chance to prove her wrong.

"Go ahead," she replied, taking another sip.

Malyn Dravis nodded in thanks and seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment before starting.

"That incident with the tower? What do you think happened?"

That was a low blow, but she smiled at him regardless. Of course, he would use that moment as a method of trying to gain an advantage in the conversation.

"I truly have no clue. I was in the Great Hall for several minutes before anyone even thought about chasing after Morgan. Even at that age, she was far more powerful than most Imperial battlemages, she just hadn't learned control yet. But when she was at the top of that tower, two hundred feet in the air and no safe way of getting down..."

She shook her head.

"I have no idea. One second, she was glaring at us all, pure hate in her eyes. The next, she was on the ground before us, a black smoke vanishing before any mage could identify it."

"Surely the Thalmor knew?"

Selene scoffed.

"Sulandril was far too concerned with what her prized _weapon_ was hiding to think about how she did it. We never saw Morgan for three weeks after that, she was in the 'care' of the bitch the whole time."

"There were talk among some of the Synod researchers that she had managed to use the power of the Void itself to safely carry her down. You may have read my reasoning in my book."

Selene frowned now. Dravis was far cleverer than she had given him credit for. Time to go on the offensive.

"Oh yes, the Dark Brotherhood 'ties' and the possible abilities that the first assassins amongst that organisation may have had. I admit, it is a nice notion, but there's no evidence to support that claim my dear."

Dravis bristled for a second at the patronising remark, but he recovered fast.

"The evidence is there," he persisted. "Lucinda Aurelius was never confirmed dead by any means, we only knew she disappeared into that doorway in the Niben bay. Yet there is a strong correlation of her fighting style and that of the Dragonborn. They are a match. One hundred percent."

"She could have picked up that style from anyone," Selene countered.

"Akaviri style, mixed with that of the Shadowscales. One style lost to time, the other a style belonging to a nation across the sea, one hostile to that of the Empire."

Selene laughed now, she couldn't resist it.

"You do recall that the Akavir returned to Tamriel a few years ago, just to talk to Morgan herself? We have no way of knowing what they said to each other. They could have asked her where she learned it from..."

"But Morgan Aurelius learned those styles from her mother, the end of the trail leads to Lucinda Aurelius," Malyn interjected. "And we need to ask ourselves where she learned the deadliest fighting style of the current age."

"I see the Synod are still sore after their Champion was soundly beaten by Morgan all those years ago," Selene grinned, enjoying how the proud scholar flushed. "What was the record for the fastest defeat before Morgan was entered into that tournament? Fifteen seconds? A record that was set by Tiber Septim himself as I recall."

She leaned forwards a little, choosing to ignore the muffled chuckling coming from more than one of the helmeted guards in attendance. _Morgan will always be a heroine of Bruma to some of the Guard._

"Six seconds was it? The current Champion at that time was a powerful mage, yes? I have never heard a man scream for mercy when he was pinned down by a better warrior."

"It was an unfair advantage!"

Selene grinned. She had him now.

"Yes, a vampire on one side, a vampire on the other. The irony is not lost on me. The Synod could have at least mentioned that detail before the tournament started, but no. They wanted to show their _superiority_. He got to the finals faster than most, even Morgan. Yet you had no idea what she was doing, do you?"

Malyn blinked. That had never occurred to any of the Synod, even to this day.

"Morgan once told me how she prepared for a fight. Many choose to spar, to keep their edge and and give themselves a mental boost. Others choose to meditate. But Morgan? No. She was something unique."

Countess Selene smiled.

"She watched. She learned every move that came her way. One move that was successful against her was never successful the second time. Of course, she never did that in a mortal fight, but in a competition? She could afford to get a few bumps and scrapes if it meant that she could learn an opponent's entire fighting style while doing so."

She grinned even more now.

"Morgan watched your Champion the whole time, and he had no idea she was there. She watched, and she learned. So, when they met in the arena to battle, she had already won."

Malyn blinked more rapidly now. The fact that their Champion had been a Cyrodillic vampire had been one of the best kept secrets of the Synod for a hundred years, a never aging Champion that had sworn full allegiance to that of the Synod and the Empire.

Of course, the fact that Morgan Aurelius had set a new record that had never been beaten since was a sore point, even now. And he would never mention that fight to that vampire ever again. He still had two bent ribs from the last time he had made that mistake.

"But...Lucinda. She is alive! I know it!"

Countess Selene sat back in her chair and sighed.

"I don't doubt it. If there is one thing that Morgan and her mother, Lilith, had in common with their ancestor, it is their ability to endure. To _survive._ "

She closed her eyes for a moment.

 _My dear friend, I truly hope you know what you are doing. I have no doubt you had some involvement in sending him out of Skyrim but this man is like an unwavering block of iron. If getting thrown out of Skyrim with advanced magic didn't sway him, I doubt anything will._

She didn't know this was the truth of course, but the fact that a scholar had appeared out of thin air next to the remains of a Daedric siege engine that was hundreds of years old, and was seemingly intent on uncovering the greatest secrets of one of the most dangerous and influential people of recent years.

Was he on skooma? Sleeping Sap?

"Any other questions?"

"Just one, if I may," he requested.

She nodded.

"When did you last see her?"

Selene smiled.

She wouldn't tell him the truth of course. He would burst a blood vessel if he knew.

"Must have been a few years now. We talked, we laughed and talked about old times and the future. She even claimed she would find a way to meet me in Aetherius before she died. Morgan never did think small," she chuckled. "She looked happy. Relaxed. Whatever happened in the last few years to infuriate her must have been terrible to change her so."

"There are no clues? At all?"

Selene fixed him with a stern glare.

"Why do you insist of finding _Death?_ I think she made it abundantly clear that she wanted to be left alone. The fact that you were transported here against your will surely must have taught you something?"

Malyn Dravis was seemingly unfazed by the rhetorical questions. He shook his head and stood up, giving her a deep bow before giving her a fishy look.

"It may be best if there were no mentions of our Champion's _affliction_. Better for everyone that way. I thank you for your time, My Lady. It has been an honour, but I have a Dragon to find."

Countess Selene watched as the stubborn fool walked out of the Great Hall and sighed as she drained the remains within the White Phial, watching with a blank stare as the container began to refill with the foul tasting green potion.

It was amazing how Morgan had appeared one night, only a day after she had been diagnosed with a debilitating disease. It had been a cold and rainy night, she recalled...

* * *

 _Six years ago:_

"Can't sleep?"

Selene jumped and turned to face the shadowy figure standing near the open window, a long black cloak swirling around the shadow's ankles.

"Morgan?" She squeaked after a few moments.

Morgan Aurelius chuckled as she walked over, pulling her hood down and smiling at her aged friend.

"You got older."

"Cheeky bitch," Selene muttered before coughing, blood dripping from her mouth.

She was thankful that her old friend was there to guide her to her bed, even going so far as to tuck her in before sitting beside her, a hand resting on hers. Selene gave a shaky smile.

"Tonight is the night I believe. They mentioned that this would happen before the infection spread to my heart. I am glad I will be asleep before then..."

"Hey, enough of that. The Selene I know would never give up that fast," Morgan admonished.

"In case you never noticed, I am old, Morgan. I aged unlike you... cheater."

Morgan grinned at the joke.

"And if I told you that you could be given at least another thirty years of life? Would you take it?"

Selene chuckled softly.

"The alchemists never found a cure. Ten thousand septims and the best adventurers in the whole of Tamriel, and they found nothing."

Morgan smiled as she brought a white container out of her pocket and opened the top, allowing Selene to see it was empty. Selene gave her old friend a crooked grin.

"I am waiting for the punchline."

Then she stared as a green liquid started to fill the empty container until it filled all the way up to the rim. She wrinkled her nose at the sharp tang within before meeting the orange eyes of the most dangerous woman in recent memory.

"Dare I ask what it is? Or how it filled up by itself?"

"This is the White Phial. It's ancient. I recovered it years ago and managed to get it working again after a lot of help from the dragons. But being a vampire, blood is one thing I need and yet the Phial cannot refill itself with blood, and is therefore useless to me. For years, it's been sitting at home when it could have been at your side much sooner..."

"You couldn't have known," Selene wheezed as she sighed, squeezing that cold hand with hardly any strength. "Skyrim abandoned you, even after everything you did for her. Only Elisif stayed true to her word. After Balgruuf died, even Whiterun no longer supported you yet they still claim you are their heroine...the bastards."

Morgan smiled sadly.

"Serana was right. A mortal's memory is a short one."

"What is it?" Selene persisted.

"Serana's mother made it. Yes, a vampire," she added, rolling her eyes when she noted the skeptical look that Selene gave her. "She has knowledge of thousands of years worth of alchemy and she knew what this disease was, and how to counter it. Drink from this four times a day and the disease cannot get any further. In ten years, it will be gone entirely."

"How? And why me?"

"I couldn't begin to tell you how it works. And as for why you? Because Bruma needs you, now more than ever. I don't give two shits about what they say about me. The only words that can hurt me are those that speak my true language. But I do this because I am not going to lose a friend far before her time. Not to some fucking disease that no-one else caught. In ten thousand people, only you were affected...you ever think why?"

"The Synod. It was them?"

Morgan nodded.

"That tournament. There were containers in the Royal Box where you were. You were the only one affected because everyone else was given an antidote before they entered. That Champion of theirs was the carrier and he didn't even know it. Fucking weak blooded vampire. Anyway, you were _targeted_ , Selene."

"They want Bruma. The Siege engine."

"You always were the smart one. But yes. They crave power. Just like the Thalmor. But this time, the enemy is already on the inside, Selene. And there aren't many left who can help me stop them."

Selene grabbed the Phial and drained the contents before hacking and coughing, barely manging to prevent vomiting the liquid back up.

"That was... _fucking foul!_ "

Morgan's amused snigger made her crack a smile of her own before her tired body succumbed to the potion, that cold hand seemingly radiating a warmth that rivalled the suns themselves...

* * *

Selene smiled at the memory before turning to face her son, who was standing at attention beside her.

"You let him leave, mother? Why?"

Selene smiled.

"Remember what Morgan told you last night?"

Aloxius Tellas of Bruma nodded.

"'Stop staring at my arse?'"

Selene chuckled before waggling a finger at him playfully. She liked how Morgan talked to her son. Like an equal. Like she had done with her decades ago.

"No."

"The best way to erase a threat is to ensure that they have no idea that you are already aware of it. She's tracking him," he replied after a seconds pause, a small grin on his face.

"You always were a smart boy," She smiled at her thirty-year-old son.

She decided not to tell him that a pair of orange eyes had been only feet behind him the entire time. Lucinda Aurelius was always preying on the Synod after all...

* * *

 **The noose is tightening...who is next in line for Malyn to annoy? :P xD Thanks for reading :D**


	7. Chapter 7: Lucinda Aurelius

Malyn was pleased he had taken the time to visit one historically important place before he returned to Skyrim and continue his hunt for the elusive Dragonborn. He glanced up at the sky, which was rapidly changing from a clear blue to a murky grey, as yet more snow clouds formed over the mountains. Pulling his hood a little further over his head, he continued up the battered path, until he reached an open doorway at the top.

Cloud Ruler Temple had been a fortress for many years, a safe haven for one of the most influential factions on the Empire's history. The Blades.

He glanced at the massive entrance and shook his head as he noted the tell-tale signs of magical enchantments which had come from the arrows of the Elves. The stonework was impressive and was more than capable of stopping anything less than what the Synod had classified as Class V ballista weaponry. Yet the Thalmor had been clever and had targeted the hinges that had held the gigantic doors in place.

It had cost them several thousand lives, but once they had breached the gates, the Blades had been wiped out by the mass of archers and Justiciars within a few horrifying short minutes.

And all that remained was an open gateway with two stoic Bruma guards standing at the entrance, their eyes always fixed on him and the outlying area.

 _Not that there is anything left to scavenge. The Thalmor wouldn't have left anything important behind after they were done wiping out the last remnants of an elite group such as the Blades._

"Papers," a female guard grunted as he approached.

Malyn did as requested, and calmly waited as the guard perused his official papers from the Countess of Bruma. A few minutes passed before she handed them back, and she gave him a stern warning.

"Be careful in there. The stonework survived the burning, but who knows how many layers of rotten supports are under that floor. Don't want to tell the Synod one of their researchers got flattened."

"My thanks," he replied softly, passing the two guards with no further issues and walking up the stone steps that led to the open courtyard.

He was impressed with the defensive layout, he had to admit. Even when the Thalmor had breached the main gate, the courtyard was laid out to be the ultimate deathtrap. He could easily make out the supports that had once held the small ballista launchers, which were capable of spearing four people at once, and all three of them had been pointed at the steps.

And from all angles, there were low walls, which would have provided cover for the archers of the Blades as they laid out volleys of projectiles at the exposed attackers.

 _Not to mention that the Blades had front line combatants as well._

It had been well documented that one of the senior generals of the Thalmor, a Justiciar Thendril, had once described the Blades as 'walking steel brutes', and Malyn had to agree with that statement after perusing dozens of Blade armour sets over the years.

Even the magical arrows would have taken repeated hits before breaking through that half inch steel plate, not to mention that each Blade was a master of the Akaviri fighting styles: something the Thalmor had not been familiar with.

He was beginning to see why the Dragonborn was seen to be an unstoppable force. Even after all those years of knowing about her, the Thalmor hadn't been ready for her. As was proved when she returned to Skyrim after her harrowing defeat of Miraak, only to decimate the ranks of the finest fighting divisions that the Thalmor had had at the time.

Malyn wasn't certain, but if he strained his hearing a little, he swore he could hear grunts and the sound of clashing steel echoing throughout the courtyard...

* * *

Entering what was left of the Main Hall, he once again stopped and looked carefully at his surroundings. The devastation was immense, the walls pockmarked with more arrow strikes, the stone support beams slashed with wayward sword strikes.

The Blades had fallen to the last, in this very room. And all around him were the bents and broken swords of the Blades, a final insult from the Thalmor. Malyn didn't dare touch them, as he knew that the theft of one of these broken relics was taken extremely seriously.

 _Well, at least one survived but the final resting place of Acilius Bolar were already determined years ago._

The noise of a sword being unsheathed broke the silence, followed by a quiet yet cold feminine voice.

"Try to scream and I will rip your throat out."

"I am unarmed," he replied as he raised his hands, trying to ignore the gentle prod in his lower back.

"Then you are either well trained in unarmed combat, or you are extremely dumb. Turn around slowly and keep your hands raised."

He complied, turning around and facing the person who was threatening him.

She was shorter than he and she wore a long black cloak that hugged a sensual figure, a dark red hood covering her head and hiding her face. The blade she had held at his chest was unidentifiable, but it seemed to be a shimmering violet and held in a steady hand.

"Malyn Dravis. Synod scholar, liar and an idiot. Not a great combination."

It took a few seconds before his mind processed the insults and he could only glare at her in response.

"Who are you?"

The woman was definitely amused, by the way she chuckled and lowered her blade, holding it loosely at her side.

"I believe you should be asking 'How do I know who you are' and 'Why am I here'? Well, I know who you are because not only did I read that _awful_ bore that your book represented, but the very same person you have been chasing asked me to keep an eye on you. As for why I am here, well..."

She trailed off and removed her hood, exposing a pale face, long black hair that fell gracefully over her shoulders and...

A pair of deep red eyes and a set of fangs that peeked out of a set of soft lips.

"Not the first time you met a vampire, but you forgot about these meetings. That blank part in your memory? All gone. And don't look at me like that, I wasn't the one who altered your tiny little mortal mind."

Malyn was itching to blast her with a magical spell, but that blade was once again pressing against his chest, her smile widening.

"I can see what she meant. You really are stubborn. And dumb."

It took him all of three seconds before his brain caught her meaning.

"You know of the Dragonborn."

His mystery vampire chuckled.

"Of course, I do. Morgan and I are related after all. We have been in communication for many years now. One benefit of being what we are."

Malyn narrowed his eyes.

"There are only a few records of her lineage. Her father vanished when she was young. Her mother was Lilith Aurelius, dead for ten years now. Her adopted daughters, Runa and Lucia. No news of their fates. Which leaves...no, that isn't possible."

She grinned at him and she sheathed that wicked looking blade.

"Lucinda Aurelius. Champion of Cyrodiil," he muttered.

Lucinda snorted.

"Been some time since I was called that. But that is all in the past now. Besides, I didn't follow you to give me your life story."

He crossed his arms and glared at the vampire.

"Morgan asked me to pass on a message. And a warning."

Malyn frowned. He wasn't sure why the Dragonborn was so defensive but he was willing to hear what this vampire had to say. He wasn't sure she was truly the ancestor of the Dragonborn. She didn't seem concerned about her for one.

"Morgan said you are free to try and pursue her, she mentioned that she was rather amused at how blindly you put yourself into danger."

Malyn bit his lip to prevent a retort, and simply nodded before speaking.

"And her warning?"

Lucinda Aurelius grinned.

" _If you do manage to find me, your life is forfeit_."

There were a few moments of silence, where he felt a cold chill slither up his spine and the air of the ruined hall seemed to press down on him. And then it was gone, and he was standing there with a grinning vampire before him.

"She _wishes me to find her at the cost of my life?!_ The woman must have lost her mind in the last few decades," he muttered.

Lucinda chuckled again.

"She is wondering just how far you are willing to go. How far the Synod is willing to push their influence into Skyrim in particular. I believe that High Queen Elisif is not happy with the frequent incursions. Perhaps you should stick with the Ayleid ruins, they are within your own borders after all."

He ignored the sarcasm and gave her the most withering glare he could muster.

"As if the barbarians have managed to delve into the Dwemer ruins as successfully as..."

"Raldbthar, Deep Folk Crossing, Mzulft, Arkngthamz, Mzinchaleft, the long lost Aetherium Forge and of course, the biggest of them all, Blackreach. I could give more details of who cleared out every single one of these ruins and gave Skyrim a boost of materials and knowledge that rivals anything from the other provinces, but I think you will know already."

He did indeed. Morgan Aurelius had been very busy over the decades it seemed, and now he had the answer as to how Skyrim and Morrowind were trading so successfully over the last six years.

"I am not going to give up my mission."

Lucinda gave him a long stare before sighing.

"Then heed my warning. Morgan gave you the chance to leave, yet you seem Void-bent on casting yourself into the pits of dragon fire."

She stalked closer and he was suddenly pressed against the wall with the smaller yet infinitely more dangerous vampire leaning against him, one hand caressing his face, her other arm wrapping around his waist. He could feel her sensuous body against his and he squirmed as his body started to betray him, a shiver running through every muscle.

"You go back there and best case? You fail to find her. She will probably leave you be after that. But if you do find her after all your searching and questions?"

He groaned slightly as she pressed herself on him even further, one slender leg hooking around his waist, her lips grazing his ear as his body started shaking.

"Then pray that she ends you quicker than Julius Marvius. I heard she had him wrapped around her finger in less time than I did with you..."

A soft graze of her fangs trailed along his throat before the pressure vanished. Malyn Dravis sank to his knees and shivered for what felt like hours before mustering enough courage to get to his feet and focus on his goal. He would pay his respects to the others and to that of the Countess before departing for Skyrim once more. He had never disobeyed direct orders before and he felt no such need to do that now. And he vowed to get the truth about that young man that the High Queen had lied to him about. He swore it.

A few minutes later, he reached the gateway, yet he knew something was amiss. For one there were no extra footprints which meant that Lucinda Aurelius had bypassed the two guards. The other was far more concerning.

There were no guards at the gateway, and no indication that they had been there at all.

He shivered again before making his way down the hill towards Bruma.

* * *

"I thank you for your hospitality my Lady, but my mission is unchanged."

Countess Selene gave him a small smile and nod, and he made to depart before turning back to face her.

"My Lady, I thought it best I report this, but...there were two guards stationed at the main entrance of the ruins. And when I returned, there was no sign of either of them."

Countess Selene frowned.

"My dear boy, those ruins have never been guarded for years now. None of the artifacts within the vaults undamaged by the Thalmor were removed decade ago."

He blinked a few times.

"But...there were two guards there, I swear it. A male and female, they asked for my papers that you signed..."

Countess Selene gave her son a look before nodding.

"It seems we have an investigation to prepare of our own it seems. I thank you for this information, the Synod will receive payment for such an act within a week. I am sorry to see you leave, yet I wish you luck on your mission. I hope you find what you are looking for," she said with a small nod, indicating the end of the conversation.

Malyn Dravis gave a small bow before departing. Mother and son exchanged a look before giving identical smiles.

"I doubt we will see him again, mother. A genius plan of fooling one of their best investigators, I must say."

Selene patted her son's hand.

"Misdirection is the best form of attack. Morgan taught me that years ago. Besides, she did mention she had found a suitable woman for you to marry next year so our arrangement benefitted all, wouldn't you say?"

She grinned at how her son blushed fiercely before allowing him to leave, laughing as the doors closed, leaving her alone in the expansive hallway.

Were it not for the two women and one man that walked from out of the darkest corner of the hall and stand at her side.

"He bought it. The fool," Lucinda Aurelius uttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Right back into the jaws of the dragon. I am still wondering why Morgan plays with this man so much," Selene replied.

Lucinda gave her a gentle smile.

"A test. If he were smart, he would leave Skyrim altogether. But the idiots that run that organization are always craving power and fools like Dravis are all too eager to impress, even at the expense of their own lives. Still, Morgan will be pleased."

"She gets the information from Dravis when he's finished with his questions and then..." Selene trailed off with an inquisitive smile of her own.

Lucinda grinned wickedly.

"The Synod lose their best researcher, Morgan gains the information she needs to wipe out that redundant and power mad organization, and the shift of power in the Elder Council moves back to one of peace with all the neighboring provinces instead of the war monger that we have currently."

Selene nodded. The Council was as corrupt as ever, but finally, with the whispers of these mages soon to be silenced, the people would listen to reason instead of false rumours and slander.

 _And who knows? Perhaps Morgan may be interested in using her own valid claim to becoming Empress?_

A cold wind blew through the hallway and Selene smiled.

Becoming members of the Dark Brotherhood had been the best decision she had made in decades.

"Hail Sithis," the four members whispered as the torches extinguished at once, leaving nothing but the darkness within the Great Hall of Castle Bruma.

* * *

 **AN: ooooh, so Morgan gave him one last chance and of course, our idiot decided to carry on...hehehe, I am evil :D**


End file.
